


A Welcome Arrangement

by Gerec



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Regency, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Period Typical Attitudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22758472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: At the man's invitation, Charles visits his father's old friend Kurt Marko, newly returned to London from years abroad. He is more than a little surprised at what Marko has to offer - a marriage proposal for Charles' mother, and a proposal of a different kind for Charles.
Relationships: Kurt Marko/Charles Xavier
Comments: 16
Kudos: 61
Collections: X-Men Rare Pairs 2020





	A Welcome Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherikinkrakoa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherikinkrakoa/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [cherikinkrakoa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherikinkrakoa/pseuds/cherikinkrakoa) in the [xmenrarepairs20](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmenrarepairs20) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Kurt married Sharon for one reason. Charles.
> 
> Could be ABO or not. DubCon is fine but not NonCon please.

Charles exited the carriage quickly and took a moment to straighten his vest, willing his nerves to settle as he walked up the short flight of steps. He had arrived ten minutes early to the address on his invitation - to the site of a lavish London townhouse - which gave him just enough time to second guess his decision to meet with Kurt Marko. Charles barely remembered his father’s former business associate, who left England for the New World when he was only thirteen, though he knew the two men still corresponded regularly until shortly before Brian’s death.

He was ushered into the study by the waiting butler, and happily took the glass of claret that was offered with thanks; a French vintage that would impress even the most discerning of wine connoisseurs. It was a measure of the man’s success that he would be served from such a bottle; the impoverished but titled son of an old friend Marko had not seen in years. There had been rumors of course, of a possible marriage proposal for his widowed mother’s hand, though Charles had quickly dismissed them as fantasy. There were plenty of advantageous pairings for someone in Marko’s position after all, and with women younger than Charles at age twenty. Even the Xaviers’ impressive social connections could not sufficiently outweigh the cost incurred through such a union, subsidising an estate overburdened and floundering in debt.

So why _had_ Marko invited him for this visit? What business could he possibly still have with the Xaviers?

As the wine would provide him with no further clues, Charles turned his attention to the rest of the room. Relatively small but well appointed, the study boasted comfortable furniture that catered to both form and function. He found many of the same books of science that lined his own bookcases back home, as well as interesting objects d’art displayed on Marko’s desk and accent tables. It spoke to a man that was curious to the wonders of the wider world, or at least one who wanted others to think of him that way.

His thoughts were interrupted with the opening of the study door, as Marko stepped in and smiled warmly at Charles, reaching to shake his hand.

“Ah Charles, my boy, look at you,” Marko said, a robust and attractive man in his forties, tall with dark hair and broad shoulders that filled the whole room with his presence. “I’m so glad to see you again, after all this time.”

“It’s good to see you too, Mr. Marko,” he replied, thinking of how little he actually remembered of his father’s friend, and embarrassed to find himself affected by the man’s unexpectedly handsome appearance. “It has been a long time indeed. How are you finding London after years in New York?”

Marko gestured for Charles to sit, and reached to refill his glass with more wine. “Please, I insist that you call me Kurt in the privacy of my home,” he said, affecting an unearned familiarity that would force Charles to reciprocate. “And while I am quite happy to be back home again in jolly old England, there are some aspects of life in New York that I sorely miss.”

“Oh?” Charles took a slow sip of his wine and smiled. “What could there possibly be in New York that you could not find here in London?” he asked, his curiosity piqued by Marko’s words and the unfathomable gleam in his eye. “This great city is the crossroads to journeys all over the globe, with access to goods from India and the Far East and even the New World. Surely a man of your stature would have no trouble procuring your heart’s desire?”

“Ah but I speak of things…more _intangible_ than simply spices or silks, or wines from the finest vineyards in Bordeaux. I’m speaking of experiences that make the blood sing, Charles, and appetites sated by more _earthly_ desires.”

Charles refrained from rolling his eyes, almost disappointed by the revelation of Marko’s pedestrian habits. Of course the man frequented brothels and paid women for sex, as many of the wealthy did in their social circles. He supposed it suited most marriages just fine, as long as affairs were conducted discreetly and without scandal; it was less likely to bring undue attention after all, and with much less complication than a dalliance with someone’s wife.

He swallowed his disdain, offering instead his most charming smile. “As I have never been to America, Kurt, I will have to take your word for it.”

His host laughed, and leaned forward in his armchair, closing the distance between them as though to impart a great secret. “You misunderstand me, my boy, though I suppose that’s to be expected.” And then he lowered his voice a little, taking a slow sip of his wine as he pinned Charles with a knowing gaze. “I was actually referring to the lack of good gentlemen’s clubs here compared to New York. I’ve been back now for over a year, and I’ve only found one reputable establishment since my return. A Mr. Sebastian Shaw owns the place, as I understand it? In the West End?”

The words sent an involuntary shudder straight up his spine, and Charles schooled his expression even as his heart started to race. He thought of the last time he’d been to the Hellfire Club, just over a week ago, and tried to remember if he had seen Marko’s face there among the regular clientele. But fear clouded his memories now as surely as the spirits did that night, leaving only the recollection of his clandestine – and very illegal – activities in mind.

“Mr. Shaw?” Charles said, swallowing another sip of his wine, feigning disinterest in a man he knew only too well. “I’m not sure I recall the name.” And then he added hastily, “Have you been there then, Mr. Marko?”

“I have.” Marko did not hesitate with his answer, which set Charles somewhat at ease. His host was all but admitting his own proclivities out loud; to frequenting an establishment that catered exclusively to men who preferred the company of other men. “In fact my first visit was a week ago on Thursday, where I spent some time getting acquainted with Mr. Shaw. Imagine my delight to see a young man I thought vaguely familiar, only to learn that he was dear old Brian’s boy, much grown now and so very _pleasing_ to the eye.”

Charles found himself both impressed and appalled by Marko’s bluntness, announcing himself so openly to a stranger. And his fear too shifted quickly to incredulity, now that he no longer thought Marko meant to expose him; instead he found it strange and maybe even flattering to be shown such obvious interest. But Charles was not willing to reveal himself quite so easily, and certainly not before he understood the real reason he’d been invited here.

“Mr. Marko… _Kurt_ ,” he said, “for the sake of your long friendship with my father, I hope you’ll indulge me and answer me frankly – why am I here? What is the purpose of this visit?”

Marko laughed. “Straight to the point then! I remember you were like that too as a boy.” Setting his glass down, Marko got up from his armchair and promptly locked the study door. “Now we can talk openly, dear boy, and we won’t be disturbed.”

Having no idea what to expect, Charles could only sit back and wait as Marko shrugged out of his jacket and returned to his seat. He thought perhaps that Marko wanted…an incentive to keep his knowledge about Charles a secret, though blackmail would hardly work without revealing both _where_ and _how_ he got the information. 

“I have a proposition for you, that I think will be mutually beneficial,” Marko began, as a million possibilities ran through Charles’ mind, though none came close to what actually followed. “I would make an offer of marriage to your lovely mother, and help alleviate the financial burdens that have befallen on your ancestral home.”

“You would—” he stopped, and shook his head. “You are not in love with my mother, are you Mr. Marko?”

“No, though I believe she would make an excellent – and formidable – lady of the house. She is well connected, and most impeccable in taste and decorum. If we were married, I would have the benefit of her social acumen, and she the comfort that my income entails. I believe it would be a good match for us both.”

“So why have you not taken your suit to her directly?” he asked, more curious than ever. “And what do you want from us – from _me_ – exactly? I’m sure you are well aware of our situation, Sir, so it cannot be because you have set your sights on a fortune we don’t have.”

Marko laughed again, and this time, he reached over and placed his hand boldly on Charles’ knee. “Dear boy, I have set my sights on something much more appealing to me than money.”

“You want—” Charles swallowed, though he did not shift his body from Marko or shy away from his touch. “You want me to…in exchange for you marrying my mother and securing our debts?”

He couldn’t say the words aloud, though his imagination had no such difficulty, conjuring an image of Charles going down on his knees right there in the study. Marko brushing his bottom lip with his thumb, and then sliding the entire length of his prick into Charles’ open mouth. The feel of it as he stroked the length in his hands, and the salty taste as he gently mouthed at his testes. Of Marko moaning as Charles swallowed around the shaft and swirled his tongue, licking and sucking with increasing speed and urgency. And then his mouth being flooded, bitter and warm, swallowing it all before he started begging for more…

“I had a young man in New York who served as my valet,” Marko said, and the sudden change in topic managed to dissipate some of the stirring that had begun in his trousers. “We had a nice arrangement for years, enjoying each other in privacy without the need to go searching elsewhere for company. Of course I still did so on occasion as did he, though I do prefer something made for longevity. One lover as it were, over many.”

“Why isn’t he here with you?” Charles asked, his throat going dry as Marko’s hand slid up just a few inches to his thigh. “Why ask me to…if you already have him?”

“I left him in America, with his wife and children as he wished,” Marko answered, and he laughed again at whatever expression he saw on Charles’ face. “It’s what Johnathan wanted, and so I wished him well, and set him with a new and promising job at one of my businesses there. Though truthfully…” Charles shivered at the way Marko’s eyes raked over him with naked admiration, like a delicious wine to be drunk slowly and savored. “I admit to being rather drawn to you, my boy. I can’t honestly say I wouldn’t have pursued you even if Jonathan had followed me here.”

“So what exactly are you proposing we do? For you to marry my mother while you and I conduct an illicit affair behind her back? Does it seem fair to put her in such a position, Mr. Marko? Just to sate your so called ‘earthly desires’?”

He stood abruptly then, in a display of more outward disdain than he was actually feeling. A part of him thought Marko contemptible for even suggesting the idea, while another could not help but admire him for his boldness. Ultimately, respect for his mother was enough reason to say no, for he did not think he could look her in the eye while simultaneously making a mockery of her marriage.

His show of temper had no effect on Marko it seemed, nor was he deterred by Charles’ apparent rebuff. He merely backed Charles slowly towards the oak desk, until he found himself pinned against the wood with Marko looming over him.

He should have found it threatening instead of arousing, to have the man perched between his thighs.

“Your mother would be well cared for and treated with respect,” Marko whispered, breath tickling his ear and the side of his neck. He felt Marko’s hand tugging at his cravat and prying it loose, his collar falling open as his heart thundered in his chest. “She will be happy, and enjoy a life of security and wealth. And you’ll secure your father’s legacy, and keep your home and your household intact.”

Charles swallowed, closing his eyes as Marko’s fingers skimmed his bared throat. “And you? You’re content to marry a woman you don’t love, just to have—” He hesitated, and exhaled harshly when Marko pressed his lips at the sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. “What if I wish to get married?”

Marko shrugged. “Then you get married. I don’t see what that has to do with our arrangement, should you agree. Charles, men like us, marriage and children are expected yes, but there’s no reason to deprive ourselves of what we truly desire. We can be good husbands and good men, and also make our own happiness.”

“I concede that you are very convincing, Mr. Marko—”

“Kurt.” His waist coat was being nudged off his shoulders as Marko spoke, though Charles remained frozen in place – from lust or indecision he didn’t rightly know. “And I should very much like to convince you, dear boy, bent over this desk.” Marko pressed their mouths together then, deep and devouring, making Charles moan and clutch reflexively at his chest. “On the sofa perhaps? Or up against the door? Nothing but a thin layer of wood between us and the servants beyond?”

Charles grinned in spite of himself. “You’re very confident, aren’t you? You’re so certain that you can give me what I want?”

“I know of your many dalliances with men my age,” Marko said. “Men like Dr. Essex, and Viscount Frost, and even the charming Mr. Shaw himself. I know what it is that a young man wants from a lover twice his age, Charles, and I assure you – I can give you everything you need.”

He flushed at having his desires so thoroughly revealed, and wondered just how much information Marko had managed to wrangle from his previous lovers. Sebastian enjoyed having power over him, and tying Charles down as part of their bed play. Winston loved wringing noises from Charles that were loud and frequent, and did not mind if the walls of Hellfire might be too thin. And Nathaniel planted marks on Charles that he would sometimes wear for days, bruises and handprints that left a delicious ache.

Would Kurt do all of that and more, if Charles agreed to be his?

It seemed that his host at least was done with the talking, for Charles found himself sprawled face down on the desk in the next instant, pinned by most of Marko’s weight. His trousers found their way to his ankles as his bottom half was stripped, and he gasped when he felt Kurt’s fingers brush him _there_ , circling the edge and rubbing teasingly at his flesh. Then a slicked finger pushed in, and started moving, chasing all thoughts of _marriage_ and _arrangement_ straight from his head.

He laid there moaning and gasping for breath, and let Kurt slowly work him loose with his fingers. It was shameful, being prone and spread open, and penetrated so intimately by his father’s oldest friend. But the shame made it better too, he thought, and the pleasure sweeter, knowing that it was wrong to let himself get caught up in Marko’s plans. Would he really let his conscience fall to the wayside, just because the man was skilled and charming and made Charles’ blood sing?

By the time Kurt finally breached him, stretching him wide, Charles already knew his answer.

“Yes,” he moaned exaltedly, as Kurt rocked his hips, jarring Charles’ whole body against the wood with each urgent thrust. 

He said it again as he came, spurting all over the wood, even as Kurt kept pumping in and out of him, intent on taking his pleasure. It went on until Charles’ limbs ached and he felt raw and well used, before Kurt finally shoved in and stilled, spilling his release into Charles with a soft, satisfied grunt.

“That was very good, my boy,” Kurt said, after he cleaned Charles up and helped him get dressed. “I should like to do it again soon. Go home now and rest, and be ready. You should expect me to call on your lovely mother sometime this week.”

“I—” Charles swallowed his reply and nodded. “Yes, I hope you’ll join us for dinner.” 


End file.
